


Gimmie Danger

by ledbythreads



Category: Iggy Pop/The Stooges, Led Zeppelin
Genre: 1975, Canon Timeline, Canon Universe, Drug Addiction, Hyatt House, Led Zeppelin - Freeform, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Oneshot, POV Iggy, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Top!Iggy, bottom!Robert, no beta we die as dyslexics, smut as metaphor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21521689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ledbythreads/pseuds/ledbythreads
Summary: “So” Iggy grins “Does Page let you fuck other people?”
Relationships: Iggy Pop/Robert Plant, Jim Osterberg/Robert Plant
Comments: 22
Kudos: 20





	Gimmie Danger

“You know that shit will kill you.” Iggy says, looking over at Plant.

Plant pauses, looking up from the line he’s sloppily preparing, with heavy eyes. He blinks slowly.

“No, I mean _that_ shit, yuhknow?”

Iggy gestures over the balcony in the general direction of the Led Zeppelin billboard below. As usual the thing he’s trying to say is way too big for the time it takes to say it, and the guy probably hasn’t got the faintest interest, but maybe he does and this is gonna be the start of some really useful and eclectic connection, with maybe product or art, or the saving-of-a-life. Maybe.

“Really?” Plant drawls like some sort of languid cat.

Iggy notices Plant put down the razor blade. Iggy notices himself wanting to lick the edge of it, and not just for the coke. He’s in that nice place before he gets sick again but while he’s still sedated enough to make small talk. Ok, medium talk, with rockstars in pretty blouses who have too many drugs to be really considered generous with them. Iggy notices everything, it can be overstimulating in the extreme.

Iggy grabs the handrail and twists himself up onto the wall of the balcony. With a little bounce on his heels he’s up standing on the edge. The adrenaline feels good, distracting. But what was he needing to tell Plant? Yeah, the whole _god_ thing.

“Like yuhknow Morrison, Jim Morrison? He went in too deep, and then the _edge_? the edge was gone. The edge was I guess protective. I mean I _saw_ him and… I didn’t wanna be a singer, I _needed_ to be a singer, like right away, I mean, fuck!. Yuhknow? And he had that godhead on him, but it was coming _through_ him yuhknow – break on through? But when they started, yuhknow people started, treating him like a god. Bad news. Makes you lazy yuhknow?” 

Plant’s looking at him with his mouth a little open, like he’s at least trying to keep up. He’s kinda leaning into what Iggy is saying but he looks a little dazed. He’s got a pretty mouth. Iggy’s feeling halfway there. He’s got a Russian gymnast ballerina vibe going. He bounces a little more. Sees Plant’s pupils dilate. Sometimes people have to look before they can hear. He flexes his chest, and yes, Plant sweeps his eyes over him. Interesting.

“Hey, you think maybe you wanna help me get down?”

Iggy thinks Plant’s the kinda guy who needs an excuse. A connection. Ok. Let’s go. Plant gets up with half a smile, saunters over. He moves nice for a tall guy. Balanced. Iggy holds out his hands and Plant offer’s his like they are at a formal dinner dance. Iggy makes sure he loses his balance just enough. Plant gasps, pulls him back from the edge. Iggy lands almost in his arms. Looks up. Plant is blushing. That was easy.

They are close. Close enough so Iggy can feel the heat off him. Plant smells of stage sweat, fucking, and 7UP. He’s still holding Iggy by the forearms. With his heels still on he’s more than a head taller. Iggy thinks he likes it, it makes him feel like Mowgli. With the panther, yeah _Bagheera_ , that’s it. He puts his hands on the guy’s hips.

“So” Iggy grins “Does Page let you fuck other people?”

Plant throws back his hair and stiffens, sort of imperious. Iggy thinks maybe they can just have a fistfight instead. Yeah! that’s ok. But then Plant just sorta puts his head on one side and laughs real hard.

“You’re hilarious” Plant says.

Iggy notices he didn’t answer any part of the question. Good interview technique. Ok. Game on.

“I can’t call you _Iggy_ mate. What shall I call you?”

Iggy pulls Plant’s hips up against his own with a jerk of his belt loops. Let’s Plant feel how much stronger he is after all.

“Jimmy” He says, grinding against his crotch “You can call me Jimmy”

Plant kisses him then. Hungry. He’s a good kisser but Iggy’s not that into kissing with guys. He likes to see their eyes. He puts his hand into Plant’s dirty wool hair and pulls his head back a little. Kisses at his throat. He needs to sniff him out a bit, check if he can get _down_. The guy’s got way too much pussy on tap. Iggy wants to check Plant can take it too. Ok that’s better, Plant’s matching him, checking him out too. Iggy’s fine with that. He runs his hands over Plant’s belly. He’s got a nice belly, soft over muscle, like a go-go dancer. Plant stiffens, head jerks up over Iggy’s shoulder.

“Fuck off will ya” Plant spits at someone “Richard. Fuck. Off!” Then to Iggy. “Not here mate eh?”

Ok so he wants to party. What’s his other name. Robert. Little Robert Anthony.

Iggy sort of pushes him, steers him by the small of his back. Makes sure they scoop up the coke to take with them. Iggy finds that if you are obvious enough about anything unusual then most people’s brains just go static and fill in their own story. He could walk Plant through here on a _leash_ and nobody would remember tomorrow. He hurries him up. Doesn’t want him cooling off. Iggy would rather be dead than bored. Plant’s a bit of a hippy but he will do. He’s very fucking sexy but Iggy will need to time it right before Plant gets coke dick.

Iggy’s been seriously thinking about checking into an asylum. The whole smack thing and the Stooges. Disintegration. Boom. No product. No fun. Zeppelin have a record label now. It’s kind of astonishing, because they are not even that good. _Product_. They have product. Iggy can’t get serious while he’s like this. Dr Zucker says he’s not crazy, just that he likes to play with his own brain too much. Ok well tonight he wants to play with Robert Plant. Who fucking cares?

“Like how long since you were out on the street Robert?”

“Well, uh, what? I was kicked out of home when I was sixteen and so I think…”

“No, like any street, like _outside_ on your own?”

“Oh. In L A, um, ’71?” Plant sighs. Iggy doesn’t want him on a downer. He hurries him on again through the party crowd. Grabs a bottle of JD. Zeppelin. Living the cliché.

Plant’s still talking “At home I can just go down the pub. Play soccer. Here..?” He shrugs.

“I play a lot of golf” Iggy offers. Ok, so Plant thinks he’s joking. He isn’t. When he can get clean enough to get onto a links he’s got a fairly reasonable handicap.

Iggy’s been an initiate of the secrets of the Hyatt for a long time. He likes to think he knows the underbelly of the underbelly. Plant doesn’t really seem like much of an exhibitionist, so they need somewhere quiet. That stuff on stage with Page, that’s real Iggy thinks. Not like David and Ronson. David scripted all that, he’s a meticulous fuck. Iggy thinks maybe Plant doesn’t realise how that comes over. He should take him out in New York sometime. If he ever sees him again.

“This way.”

He’s pulling Plant into the stairwell. This one has this sort of half a room off the second landing that must have just been a blip on the blueprints. It’s good for shooting up in if you want to have a nice nod after, but only if you’re not gonna OD because nobody will find you for days. Convenient now though.

“After you doll” He says to Plant. The guy is looking more nervous than Iggy expected. Ah, so not so debauched after all. Iggy had thought Lori and Bebe tend to romanticise Zeppelin, Maybe not. Well he can provide candlelight if that’s what he likes. Not the primary purpose of a naked flame in these environs but hey. Iggy scratches round being hospitable.

“You wanna go back?” Iggy offers Plant a get out. It’s no fun otherwise.

“Nah” Plant says, trying to be nonchalant.

Iggy feels the line about Page had been the right one. Boy’s got something to prove. He gives the necking another go. Plant seems into it. Iggy likes how tall he is. Likes he has to stoop down to kiss him. Makes him feel emotional. Robert makes Iggy feel slick like a performing seal, his dick is hard, but his mind is wandering again.

“Maybe we need to get a bit more twisted Robert” Iggy says

“Yeah. Right, Sure” 

As they do some coke Iggy wonders if Robert has ever done this with anyone not in the band. They do seem really tight. They don’t do collaboration. Very unlike David or Lou. Iggy wonders if that’s true about sex too. Robert had seemed a little cynical, but he’s got this genuine innocence that Iggy wasn’t expecting. Iggy changes tack. As Robert starts to come up Iggy crushes him really gently. Takes his time, crooning just a little. Grabs his ass nicely. Pushes a thigh between Robert’s and grinds on him. Kisses down his neck and his jawline. That’s it, he’s getting hard now. He’s got a real nice cock, large, shapely. Iggy gets him out of his pants. Uncut. British. That’s interesting. Iggy plays Robert’s foreskin over the head. Notices everything. Robert’s getting responsive despite the coke. Iggy’s dick is harder too. He tends to feel it all over though. He’s not a particularly genital person. His body is where he feels. He feels harder and harder as Robert starts to go under for him. He’s letting go. It’s slow but he’s getting there.

Robert starts to loosen up and runs his hands over Iggy’s skin. Gets lost in the definitions of his muscles. Iggy thinks there was likely some heroin in the coke because Robert’s gone a little dreamy. He eases Robert against the wall and feels him slide down it a little. Iggy kicks Robert’s feet out wider, unbalancing him, meaning he has to let Iggy take more of his weight. He runs a hand behind Robert’s balls and presses flat against his asshole. Feels him respond. Ok. Good.

“Can I fuck you, princess?” Iggy drawls.

Robert does that head on one side laugh again.

“We’ll see” He says, “Can you?” and does that slow blink. Grabs Iggy’s cock. Bites his mouth. Fierce.

Iggy gets them out of their clothes. May as well do this properly and in general Iggy only wears clothes for show. He asks Robert to keep his boots on. Robert gives him another sideways laugh but puts them back on after he gets his jeans off. He zips them slowly locking eyes with Iggy, then slams him back against the wall and kneels down on the pile of their jeans to suck his cock. He is fucking talented. Kudos. The guy really knows how to blow someone. Iggy has had the best blowjobs in five states and Robert’s up the top of his list.

He does this twist with his tongue that’s exceptional and he doesn’t deep throat exactly but kinda lets Iggy’s cock slip down every now and then like a sort of backbeat. Ok, times up. Iggy has no chance of getting hard twice, so he pulls Robert back up. He grabs his jeans and gets out a condom and some K Y. He’s biting the foil open with his teeth when he sees Robert eyeing him quizzically.

“Dress to impress” Iggy says.

Robert raises an eyebrow, but he gets a flush as he watches Iggy roll the Trojan on and get the K Y on his fingers. When Iggy turns him round he’s already moaning. Iggy gets real close and hooks one arm round his waist. Robert leans on the wall so Iggy can reach and gets one boot up on a crate somebody must have been using as a makeshift table. Iggy thinks keeping Robert’s boots on him was genius. Ok. Here they go. He goes slow but Robert knows what he’s doing. Makes himself relax then pushes back. It’s good. A bit trippy but good. Iggy feels himself melting into Robert’s back mouthing little curses and sighs into his skin. Iggy lets his hand drop down to stroke Robert’s cock too. He likes doing this for him. He feels together. Useful.

Ok let’s give him what he came here for. Iggy starts to loosen up seeing what Robert can take. Iggy cat scratches Robert right across his chest and hears Robert hiss but also notices his knees go a little like a physical stutter. Iggy pushes him more forward and slides his left hand up to the back of Robert’s neck. Robert drops his right hand down from the wall and cups it around Iggy’s hand on his cock. He’s going uh uh uh with every thrust now. Lost. Wanton. Close. Iggy angles just right for him, Just right, Come on! Closer. That’s right. Robert’s sucking in his stomach. Trying to make it last. Iggy rakes his nails down Robert’s back. Feels him trying to hold himself together. Then he’s coming over their hands. He’s a hot mess but laughing. Iggy feels Robert’s ass clench against him as he comes, and it’s really fucking pleasant, but he knows he’s not gonna come. That’s just how it is. He’s starting to feel just a little junk sick now, but he’s got a while before it kicks in.

If Robert notices he doesn’t say anything. They get back into their clothes companionably. Robert has to hold onto Iggy to get his jeans back on because his legs are a little shaky.

“So, say hi to Page for me” Iggy deadpans

“Sure Jim” Robert laughs, Does that half grin thing. “What, you think I won’t?”

“I don’t know doll, but you give good head, tell him I say he’s a really lucky guy.”

Iggy’s not worried about him anymore. There’s something about Robert that’s very elastic, he’s gonna be ok. He’s got a good game face is all. Despite the jet.

“Hey when you are back in your pub, yuhknow. Think of me. One time. I’m not such a lucky guy…”

“Yeah, sure Jim. One time”

**Author's Note:**

> So... There's this photo of Iggy Pop and Robert Plant on a balcony and it's often labeled 1975. Thing is, the Lemon Mistresses of tumblr think it's 1973 and if you look then it's likely from the night at when James Fortune took the photographs of Zeppelin on that ugly arm chair - (edited umpteenth time: That pic is also used for the Drake Robbery night in NYC, I think that is just generic - according to JF the shoot is at the Riot House in 73) 
> 
> Anyway - Iggy in 1973 was in a much better place than Iggy in 1975 after the Stooges exploded and his long heroin habit got out of control. I've shifted the timeline because I wanted to contrast Iggy when he was just at the edge of losing it all with when Zeppelin and Robert appear to have everything, but may be on the cusp of having far too much. Other than that I've tried to keep to canon details. Yes the golf is real. Iggy did check into the care of Doctor Danny Zucker and made the start to his long slow recovery and clawing back success and the product he knew he wanted out in the world. 
> 
> Iggy is very gender fluid but I don't know if he ever had male lovers. He crosses over with Zeppelin as friend and sexual partner (or insert word here if you feel the need due to the age issues) with Lori Maddox and Bebe Buell. Getting in his head at this time to write his POV made me think about the underbelly of the underbelly - how the Bowie/Reed/Pop world probably knocks the carry on of Zeppelin into a cocked hat. Berlin is not Bron-Yr_Aur.
> 
> Anyway - I'd love to know how this story comes across. It's a departure for me inspired by fandom sibling @Brownskinsugarplum76 writing Iggy Pop (check out her fic). I don't usually write slash Robert character with anyone but bandmates. If you are canny you will note he does have a thing for bottoming with drummers so maybe that's what it is with Iggy.  
> Let me know in the comments or come chat on tumblr 
> 
> tech notes: I prefer to spell y'know like that but it causes problems with screen readers hence the alternative.  
> names: Iggy thinks of himself here as Iggy and we do too - Iggy changes how he sees Robert as the story progresses. But he really is Jimmy / Jim / James Osterberg so that's convenient.


End file.
